Secrets Kept
by PassiveBot
Summary: A journey into the War of the Ancients, the tumultuous bonds forged in the flames of battle; joy, rage, friendship, loss. As one of a team of heroes, Lanaya's job is simple, to take orders and mete out those deadly words into action. In her journey across the battlefield, on both sides of the River, she will truly learn what it means to love, to hate, to spare, to kill. Ch7 is out.
1. Bloody Good Timing

I have noticed a disturbing shortage of Dota 2 stories on this website, despite the amazing potential this universe has. So I've decided to rectify that. If you like this story, leave me a review telling me you did, if you didn't, leave me a review telling me how I can improve it. Criticism is welcome and encouraged. As usual, legal stuff, yada yada, blah bleh blah, now on to the story.

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><p>Lanaya would usually never be so careless as to actually get herself captured, sure she'd suffered a few close calls in the past but had never let her guard down. <em>Ambushed! <em>She nearly laughed to herself. _I let myself get ambushed, amazing. _

She blew a strand of hair away from her face. It was hot here, under this tent's shade, whatever few beams of strong sunlight filtered through the canopy outside illuminated the dust and ash that floated through the air within the tent, even the very earth seemed to heave in the heat, emanating a smell of raw tilled soil. She sat, rather was bound to, a chair planted firmly in the cracked grey earth, her wrists chained together behind the backrest and her ankles shackled to the chair legs. The skin around her wrists were already raw from struggling.

Through the canvas walls she saw shapes slinking about outside, figures, creeps, the clattering of stacks of swords and the sound of hammers against metal and wood. A table sat in the corner of the tent, rows of sharp knives, spiked mauls and barbed skewers laid out meticulously atop it, some dull and dusty, others polished and sharpened, and even a few with red-brown stains still along their edge.

At first the Templar Assassin eyed the flap entrance to the tent, her mind already imagining who would walk through there, running through a dozen different scenarios of how she'd orchestrate her great escape. Unfortunately, most of these scenarios ended with her getting tortured as she couldn't figure out how to get free of her chains. She couldn't unknot them or loosen them, when she conjured her psionic blades they couldn't reach around to cut the chains on her wrists.

She sat straight and glanced back over her shoulder, inspecting the violet energy shears in her palms. She'd never really mastered magic beyond simple rune traps and summoning energy blades from her fingers, maybe if she could just curve her fingers around…

Footsteps scrunching across dirt, the flap of a canvas door being parted. Lanaya immediately looked straight ahead and adopted an expression she hoped conveyed bravado.

A soft green glow filled the tent as a tall, decrepit man stepped in, robed in green with a tall bidet atop his crown. His hands, long and bony, were folded neatly behind his back, he carried himself with composure, but his face spoke of the twisted things that filled his mind, his skin sunken in and looking more akin to a skull with skin stretched painfully over it, pulled taut till his mouth was affixed in an eternal scowl.

He looked disdainfully at her, silent, he gave no introduction but she knew him. He was Rotund'jere, the Necrophos, Elicitor of Secrets and Provoker of Screams, wickedly wise and twisted in the mind. The stories of torture his victims suffered were whispered in half-believed tales, the survivors left maimed and unrecognisable as human. He wasn't as sadistic as the Queen of Pain, but nonetheless dangerous.

Lanaya tilted her chin at him, raising an eyebrow. "So? Get to the torture then!"

Behind her back her hands continued to manipulate her psi blades, trying to angle themselves to cut the chains wound tightly around her wrists. Rotund'jere's smile contorted into something else unintelligible, coughing out a slow, long chuckle. "So eager to suffer…"

He crossed the tent to the table, what few weeds and sprigs had managed to force their way through the earth withered and died as he neared, even Lanaya could feel her chest seizing up and her breaths getting shallower. But she didn't let it show, all she did in response was to follow his path with bored eyes.

The Necrophos picked out the nearest tool on the table, a mallet with dull spikes along its head. As he scrutinised it, weighed its effectiveness with the other tools, he spoke. "I am sure you know my name, so there is no need for introductions." His bony hands glided over the list of weapons, pausing and raising a double edged knife with barbs along its side. "You've been quite a thorn in my side these past few days, causing all your… disturbances, here."

'Here' referred to the region of the Jungle this Dire camp was situated and of which Necrophos was chief, and 'disturbances', referred to certain missions she and her team of four other heroes had gone on. The waylaying of patrols, the disappearance of supplies, the occurrence of accidents. Of course it was never as simple as that, problems always arose, chief among these occurrences were the Curious Case of the Keen, the Intriguing Intrusion of the Intelligible Treant, and worst of all, the Honey Badger Incident. She took a moment from her efforts to cringe at the last one.

Lanaya furrowed her brows. Her psi blades followed the line of her hand, and her hands were bound too tightly for her to angle the blades to cut her chains. She needed to find another way. _Another way…_

Rotund'jere's hand lingered over a bladed skewer, then settled upon it. He held it up to the soft glow of light to scrutinise its tines. "You've been such a thorn that you've pricked the side of my higher ups, and their higher ups. Yes, Ostarion himself has put a mark on your head."

That caught her attention. The Wraith King usually kept himself disentangled from the complexities of the war, commanding the Dire Legions from his throne. But her antics must have been more effective than she'd thought.

"And as such a thorn, I am to deliver you bound and gagged to my King, to be taken as a trophy. Officially, I have not even captured you yet, you are still prancing about the forest meddling in our affairs. I have a day before I must make my mandatory report to my superiors and deliver you to them, but until then…"

Necrophos turned back to face her and she immediately swung her head back over her shoulder to face him, pretending to look at the long serrated knife between his thin fingers with passive boredom. Behind her back she was still trying to manoeuvre her blades to shear her bonds.

He raised an eyebrow at her lack of emotion, "Do you not fear this knife? What I will do to you?"

She was afraid, but she kept her lips sealed adamantly. A bead of sweat she hoped he didn't notice crept down the side of her face, betraying her. Her wrists began to bleed from her struggling, a single drop sliding down the ball of her palm. _This isn't working, I need to find another way…_

Rotund'jere raised his knife so it was level with her lips, hidden behind her mask. He sneered, "No matter, you will learn the meaning of fear in its entirety very soon."

Her heart screamed in her ears, a message she understood. _Find a way out, live, survive. _

_ Your blades. _Psionic Blades, bright, flashy, conspicuous.

He drew his arm back slightly, preparing to thrust his knife through her mask and lips.

_How do you use them? _I throw them at enemies from a distance and-

_Throw? Why don't I throw them. _Her arms were bound, she didn't have enough space to throw them at Rotund'jere.

Her composure seemed to falter for a moment as his sneer widened into an approximation of a gruesome grin. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream, at least she'd try not to.

_I can't throw them at him_, some more composed part of Lanaya mused. _But why does he have to be the target?_

Target. Lanaya furrowed her brows, she needed a target. Her eyes flitted around, looking for something close, something near to strike, anything she could do.

Then she realised the ropes on her legs were adjacent to her blades.

Even as Rotund'jere stabbed with his knife, Lanaya flicked her wrists, psi blades and all, painfully forward, the blades detached themselves from her fingers and shot forward, bleeding through the ropes that bound her ankles to the chair legs. She felt heat as the blades melted a layer of skin off her ankles.

Her body seemed to slide down of its own accord as the Necrophos' blade sliced through the air with a hollow sound, pain, a single thought: _You weren't fast enough. _

Lanaya rolled away, something warm on the side of her face. Sweat? She saw drops of blood staining the ashen, cracked ground.

He growled, "What? How-"

She was bleeding. Her hand rose to her face and she felt a curtain of warm, viscous blood along the side of her face. His knife had cut her. One of her eyes twitched shut as the hot, stinging blood seeped through the gap of her eyelids.

One hand seemed glued to the right side of her crown, clutching the wound where the most blood fell. In the other another psi blade formed as Rotund'jere snarled and reached out for her, the other hand drawing back the knife again for another stab.

The Templar Assassin tried to send a psi blade flying into his chest but one of his hands, thin but with a spry strength in his malnourished arms, grabbed her wrist and sent the blade flying high, slicing a gaping hole in the roof of the tent, the other of his hands sending the blade arcing underhand straight for her heart. The snarl upon his lips seemed to twist in victory.

She couldn't conjure her psi blade back in time, she couldn't do anything other than watch in horror as the blade seemed to slowly glide towards her skin, slow, slow…

Lanaya's brows furrowed as she realised that the blade was actually moving slowly, sluggishly, with a deep cracking sound like shattering rock its flight stopped completely. She looked up and saw the sneer still upon Rotund'jere's face, but his skin now more grey than green, even blue, a thick layer of ice crystals materialising along his entire body, immobilising it in place, immortalising that ugly snarl. Clear blue shards poked out from under his robe, encasing his feet and head, coating his joints especially thick. His serrated blade hovered inches from her ribs.

Lanaya realised what had happened, a smile actually crept across her face, a mix of incredulity and joy. She pried her wrist from the Necrophos' now cold, stone-like grip, taking a moment to massage the raw wounds from her ropes, before intoning, "You know, you cut it a little close there."

"Ah," came a bright, young voice. "You should be glad I came at all, this isn't a very nice place to get to."

Rylai, the Crystal Maiden, stepped out from behind the Necrophos, a splash of vibrant sapphire, white and gold on the grey and red world here. Her eyes crossed at Lanaya worriedly, "You're… bleeding."

"Well that tends to happen when you get roped to a chair for torture." Lanaya kept one hand pressed to her wound, dimly aware of a numb, blunt pain there. She shook her head to clear it of a few black spots she hadn't noticed there before. "Anyways, how did you get through the camp?"

"Well, I waited till the sentries changed shift then snuck in. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

The Templar Assassin removed her right hand and realised it was drenched and dripping with blood. She tried to hide her panick, "Y-Yeah, I'm good. We need to focus on getting out of here. Where are the others?"

Rylai's scowl was replaced by a pout, "Sven wanted to come with me but Juggernaut said it was dangerous and you could 'handle yourself', I got bored of their arguing and well, you know the rest."

Lanaya did indeed, heroes, Radiant and Dire alike, were usually dispatched in teams of five. The last member of their team, well, they preferred not to talk about him, he'd disappeared on 'secondary objectives' so much that they'd learnt to operate as efficiently as any other team with only the four of them.

She sidled up to the flap doors of the tent, parting them with one finger of her free hand and glancing outside. They were in the middle of a Dire field camp, both sides regularly made outposts like these on both sides of the river that divided the battlefield.

There were other tents and shelters in the outpost, a palisade wall closing off the whole camp, the forest cut down around it. Dire Creeps, creatures with maroon skin and black masks that were once men and women, hurried along the gaps between tents and along well-trod dirt paths, growling at each other, somewhere, someone yelled out far away commands. Some creeps hammered fortifications onto the walls, others had their arms piled high with rough swords, some walked into tents, others walked out. All consciously avoided the one they were in, Necrophos' torture tent.

It wasn't well guarded on the outskirts, for a field camp with so many Creeps, just a few sentries with basic magic staves hobbling along the walls, but from within here there were too many to escape from unnoticed. Lanaya frowned, "There's too many to fight, definitely. How did you get through the walls anyway?"

"They got sloppy clearing the forest around back, there's a tree there with a branch that hangs over the wall. Are you sure you're fine, you look pale."

"You're one to talk," Lanaya joked, Rylai's skin was lighter than most. But truthfully, she wasn't feeling too golden. "I'll be fine," the Templar lied. "Just help me find a way out of here."

She glanced back at the Necrophos worriedly to make sure he was still frozen solid, white mist slowly gliding off his crystallised form. "So? Any ideas?"

Rylai joined her at the entrance to the tent flap, consciously trying to mimick the way Lanaya stood, slightly leaning forward, parting the flap with one finger, heels raised as if to spring away at the slightest sound. She looked quite ridiculous considering she was trying to balance her sceptre in the crook of her arm as well. "Well, there's tents throughout the camp, most of them are for storage but others, forges or workstations I think. I don't know which from which. I heard some of the creeps talking about a butcher somewhere here, maybe they have a baker too."

"Focus."

"Sorry, maybe we could run, tent to tent?"

That was risky, they wouldn't know which tents had creeps inside or not, and some might enter while they were trying to hide, or someone might spy them when they were crossing the space between tents. Lanaya shook her head, "No, still too dangerous. What we need, is a distraction."

Rylai scoffed in her bright, cheerful voice. "How are we going to-"

At that moment there was a sound like thunder, metal impacting metal, something splitting, and a scream that shattered the chorus of noise. The heads of the creeps seemed to turn as one towards the gates, where the noise had come from, then with a great battlecry they surged forward. They grabbed the nearest things that passed for weapons, hammers, nails, anvils, those with swords in their arms were mobbed by the others, and as one they charged towards the gates, shrieks for blood rising from their number. Even the sentries ran along the walls to the front of the camp.

Rylai asked, "Uh, what was that?"

Lanaya grabbed her friend's wrist with her left hand, the other still pressed to her forehead. She made sure Rotund'jere was still frozen, and then she backed up a few steps. "That is called a distraction."

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><p>The Templar Assassin took off running, a Crystal Maiden in tow, struggling to keep pace. Lanaya turned on the balls of her heels and ran around Necrophos' tent for the back of the camp. She was greeted by more rows of tents between her and the far wall, where she could see trees leaning over into the camp. Necrophos' tent must be in the centre, a small army on all sides.<p>

Of course this army was now concentrated at the front of the camp, investigating, or probably attacking, whatever had caused such a scream. Lanaya looked around, there were barely any creeps left, those who lingered didn't stay much longer, heading off towards the gates themselves. She tightened her grip on Rylai and kept running.

They passed tent after tent of grey canvas, blood red symbols painted crudely on their doors. Lanaya's eye caught that of a creep stepping out of one, but she didn't stop as he snarled and lunged at them, missing and sliding into the dirt. She didn't bother to stop.

"Lanaya!" Rylai called out. "He saw us!"

She growled, "We need to get out of here, they'll find out anyway when they find our frozen friend."

Dimly aware of her companion nodding breathlessly, the Templar Assassin drew her friend close and heard the creep they'd passed shouting, "The prisoner's escaping!"

There were more creeps who'd stayed behind then she'd thought. They tumbled out onto a crossroads of dirt paths, a pack of creeps, brandishing a club, a sword and a frying pan among other weapons, roared battlecries for blood as they charged them at a frightening pace. Lanaya pulled Rylai close and shoved her through the gap between two tents, following close behind, pulling down a rack of crudely fashioned blades behind them.

They'd arrived at the wall, Rylai was right, the forest had barely been cut here. The Crystal Maiden tugged on Lanaya's arm, "There!"

She followed her gaze, a single tree, a gnarled unhealthy thing with black bark and barely any green upon it, with a single branch that reached out over the palisade.

A sentry still prowling along the wall snarled and swung his staff, a bolt of hot magic shooting towards them. Lanaya ducked out of the way as Rylai thrust her staff forward. The creep tried to swing his staff again but his body slowed to the point of stopping, with a sharp crack crystals grew along his form, immobilising him.

The sound of shots and clattering weapons, nearer now, separated only by a wall of canvas. Lanaya could already see shadows of creeps in them, their blades stabbing through the fabric walls and cutting them open.

She helped Rylai up onto the platform along the wall, Rylai reached down and helped her up in return. They ran down the length of the wall to where the tree was, now in clear view of the creeps who'd peeled away to pursue them, quite a number. One of them threw what was in his hand, a rusted kitchen knife, that embedded itself firmly in the wood under Lanaya's feet. The others followed his example, throwing whatever was in their hand, mostly their own weapons, and soon whatever they could find. Most of them flew far off, but a few came close.

A chair splintered against the wall next to Lanaya's head, she picked one of the shattered pieces and flung it blindly towards the crowd below. Some of them, the smarter ones most likely, had crossed to the stairs to ascend the wall to chase them on foot.

Blades thunked into the log wall, other blunt implements bounced off with hollow noises. A cooking pot, or a chamber pot maybe, nearly struck her head. Lanaya grabbed Rylai and pulled her back as a sword flew through the air and sunk into the wood where she'd been a moment before. More items flew, mostly cooking tools now, a large cast iron wok bounced off the palisade and Lanaya grabbed it, using it as a shield for both of them.

They came under the tree quickly in their haste. Lanaya knew they couldn't linger, they were easy targets even to these creatures' poor aim here. She knelt down, propping her cooking wok shield against her side, and cupped her hands as a foothold, "Up."

Rylai placed her foot on Lanaya's hands and jumped up, for a second her hands scrabbled for purchase on the bark, before she found her grip. She reached down, "Come on, Lanaya!"

The Templar Assassin was about to take her friend's hand when she realised something, the branch was already bending, a knife thrown at Rylai stuck itself in the bark and it dipped dangerously. It was barely strong enough to hold Rylai, as light as she was, it would break with the weight of both of them.

She gestured Rylai away, "Go first! It's too weak for both of us!"

The creeps throwing their cooking articles weren't much of a threat, except for the odd sword or knife, but there was a pack bearing down from either side of the wall, about to sandwich her in a vice of swords and bloodlust.

The tree's branch groaned noisily and Rylai understood, hurriedly shuffling along the branch. Another pot, or maybe a knife, or a hammer, bounced off the wok shield Lanaya crouched behind. She watched Rylai's progress nervously, aware of the creeps along the wall loping closer and closer.

Once Rylai had shuffled far enough along the branch, Lanaya stood, preparing to jump and grab on to safety, then she realised that the branch was too high overhead for her to make it on her own. _How didn't I notice that before! _Maybe it was the head wound, or the blood loss, or the thrill of being chased by several dozen demons.

A sword, at least it was supposed to be a sword, bounced off her wok and clattered along the wall. She grabbed it, _time to improvise._

Lanaya stuck it firmly into the side of the palisade, grabbing it and testing it to see if it was secure. The creeps along one side of the wall, behind her, had reached her. She threw her wok at them, kicking the nearest creep and sending him falling onto his companions behind. Now she had no cover. The other pack, on the wall in front, was almost upon her. She planted one foot firmly on the blade she'd stuck securely into the wall, using it as a foothold she lunged upwards, the tips of her fingers wrapping around the branch, which bent downwards frighteningly.

Lanaya glanced down and saw the two packs meet together, leaping up and trying to grab her ankles. She drew them up as their clammy fingers closed in the air over nothing, their owners falling back to the wall, shrieking.

A bowl bounced off her branch, a cleaver stuck firmly in the wood. The creeps were now boosting each other up, trying to reach the branch. Lanaya ran along it, despite its pained groans, creaks and much shaking of wood.

She glanced back and saw one of the creeps, its side stained with mud and its mask scratched and chipped, had managed to scrabbled its way onto the branch. Another was already following him up.

Lanaya saluted them smugly, before flicking her wrist and sliding down the tree in one motion. The branch, parted from the tree by a deftly thrown psi blade, fell into the camp with the creeps that had clambered onto it crashing into the rest of their swarm. A satisfying chorus of screams, shouts and general chaos ensued.

Lanaya staggered off into the underbrush, smiling at a panting Rylai with hands on her knees. They shared a glance, one thrilled, one exasperated, before she asked, "One for the books?"

Rylai raised a hand as she panted a moment longer, before swallowing, smiling, and agreeing, "One for the books."

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><p>Well, that was chapter one. Leave a review, tell me if you liked it, if you didn't, if you want more, or if you want me to uninstall Dota and join LoL.<p> 


	2. Jungle View

Well, here's a long overdue chapter, longer than the last. Bleh bleh, I'm not good with forewords, read on and hope you enjoy.

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><p><em>Silence is the game.<em>

Lanaya crept low to the ground, her slim boots sliding soundlessly over the ashen ground, fractured from lack of rain. Dark ferns and dank bushes brushed against her sides, tall, leafless trees rose on every side in endless rows, the scent of decay and a sick forest hanging heavy. The Sun's bite was strong, here in the Dire side of the Jungle the trees rarely grew leaves, even if they had they would have fallen away with the autumn.

She slunk forward like a cat, her bright colours hidden from sight by the dark fronds of undergrowth. The Assassin darted forward to a thick tree, leaning against it and looking around it for trouble. Silence was her way, subtlety her creed, she was a wraith gliding through the Jungle unseen, or at least that was how she envisioned it. _Silence, I am silence. I am silent…_

"Lanaya! Can we hurry up and get out of here!"

Then there was Rylai, thrashing through the forest like a pint-sized elephant. She pushed aside a row of black bushes and muttered something in exasperation. Her golden hair was dishevelled and a few of the ends were stained greyish, her vibrant blue outfit sticking out painfully in the palette of grey.

Rylai whacked a fern next to her with her staff, sighing, "Gods, there are paths through the Jungle for a reason, you know?"

"The paths are the first place they'd look," Lanaya answered, sighing back as her friend tried to navigate the undergrowth noisily, thwacking the same fern several times with her staff. The Dire creeps would send a search party after them, and the well-known routes would be the first they'd investigate.

The Crystal Maiden pulled a long face, "Oh please, we're far enough already, I'm sure they've given up by now."

Lanaya knew she was probably right. Rylai had told her that after Lanaya had gone away, and got abducted, on her own personal escapade they had made camp at one of their rendezvous sites.

Her hand ghosted over her head wound, they had stopped at a creek and Rylai had offered to help her wash the dried blood away. It had stopped bleeding but it was still numb when it didn't hurt, and throbbing angrily when it did.

Creeping forward surreptitiously, Rylai following behind, cursing the plants that plagued her, Lanaya's hand brushed against her head wound. It had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but the whole right side of her face, mask and hair had been crusted in thick dried blood. Her right eye still stung whenever she opened it.

As they walked, to take her mind off what more could've happened to her if Rylai hadn't intervened, Lanaya asked aloud, "So did Sven and Yurnero say anything before you left?"

Rylai pushed away a bush, which promptly bounced back and swatted her in her face. She promptly froze the plant. "Not really, they were still arguing about how to go about the whole 'daring rescue' thing. Sven was sure we could just charge in and clear out the camp, Juggernaut wanted to wait and keep an eye on the area, he thought you could get out on your own."

That gave her a strange glow of satisfaction, the fact that he thought she could escape from the camp on her own. She smiled under her mask as Rylai continued.

"Well, as I said earlier, I got tired of their bickering and since it didn't look like it was ending anytime soon- darn plants," she froze another row of ferns. "They wouldn't listen to me, so I went on my own to help you, mostly on a hunch that you were in big trouble."

Lanaya pushed aside a thick, overgrown wall of weeds hanging from the dead branches of two trees, stepping out onto a dirt path, shattered cobblestones and cracked archways rising from the dirt. She walked across the path and into the Jungle on the other side, Rylai still grumbling. Lanaya used her free hand to push aside a damp shrub, glancing back as she said, "Well, I'm not going to say running off without the two of them was stupid, since you saved me after all, pretty good work."

Rylai beamed triumphantly, before Lanaya let go of the shrub and it swung back into the Crystal Maiden's face. She allowed herself a small giggle and continued, "For a little _girl_ that is."

Her friend spat out a mouthful of dank leaves, saying in a high pitched outrage, "What?! I'm barely younger than you! I swear, I'll freeze your lips together! I'll… I'll-"

"Oh hush, _girl_, you shouldn't get so angry towards your elders." Lanaya knew Rylai hated being reminded how young she was.

The Crystal Maiden crossed her arms, her mouth falling agape as she gave one of those speechless smiles. "Aaand she's back, you know, one of these days I really am going to freeze your lips together."

The Templar Assassin smiled as she continued onwards, stepped lithely over a raised root, catching Rylai as she tripped over it. They walked a moment longer, before Lanaya stretched out a hand and stopped the both of them. She nodded downwards, "Tripwire."

A thin fibre made of dried and woven vines stretched out between two trees, it lay hidden in a curtain of fronds and blended into the dark background more easily than a metal filament would. Lanaya felt herself become calmer immediately, only Yurnero made traps like this. That meant they were getting close to their camp. She gestured to Rylai, "Come on, we're nearly there."

True enough, they came to the edge of a small clearing where the trees and bushes had been cleared away. Such clearings were common throughout the Jungle. A few discarded crates lay in small stacks, a dead fire pit in the middle, to anyone who didn't know it could've been an abandoned Kobold camp, small, vicious lizard-rat people who were fond of thieving from travellers. In fact, from the smell, a few Kobolds had probably been through here recently. But she recognised the way the crates had been scattered as if to feign carelessness, the way the coals had been drenched in dirt to stamp out the smoke. But she had to be sure.

Lanaya glanced back to make sure Rylai was still at her side, restlessly observing the camp. The young girl asked enthusiastically, "Can I do it?"

"Next time, maybe," and Lanaya was greeted with a rather cute grumble.

The Assassin's form hugged the shadow of a tree to make sure she was invisible to the eye, and she let loose a whistle, like the cry of a canary, one clear note, then several quick tuts. She waited expectantly, and sure enough there came a response, a hoot like that of a barn owl. Lanaya smiled, Yurnero and her had already perfected this routine before they'd been thrown together into the same team, letting Rylai do it just seemed unnatural.

She and Rylai stepped into the clearing, Rylai immediately falling upon the clean grass in relief as she was freed from the 'ungodly stink of the Jungle'. A man stepped out from the opposite side of the clearing, the most striking feature about him wasn't the skin tanned golden, or the fur pelt around his shoulders, but the featureless mask that hid his face. Yurnero, the Juggernaut, sheathed his blade, glowing like fire, as he neared. He tipped his head towards each of them in turn, "Lanaya, Rylai."

"Well happy to see you too," Lanaya grumbled in an imitation of his terse tone.

He didn't seem amused, somehow his unhappiness seemed to emanate through his mask. He laid his sheath down gingerly on a bed of grass, remarking calmly, "You are wounded."

Lanaya brushed some of her hair over her wound, then realised that her hair was still crusted with a bit of blood. She smiled carelessly and lied, "Oh please, it's just a little cut."

Sven stepped out from another side of the clearing, just as, in fact somehow, even more clumsily than Rylai. A huge blue-armoured man, trampling plants, uprooting small trees, awkwardly squeezing himself between two trunks, dragging his sword behind him and carving a furrow in the ground.

Lanaya noticed how Rylai hurriedly tried to compose herself, pulling a few leaves out of her hair and tidying her robes, and the Assassin smirked.

Sven growled as the tip of his metal boot snagged on a root, with a jerk he yanked it out, root, stem and all. He muttered angrily, "Demonic shrubs…"

He looked up, eyes under his blue-horned helm seeming to brighten. His accented voice boomed, "Ah, and here are our two lost sheep!"

He crossed the clearing in a few steps, reaching out with his free hand. Lanaya tried to raise her hands in protest, "No, it's-"

Sven wrapped the two of them in a crushing embrace, lifting them straight up off the ground, she squirmed awkwardly while Rylai squealed in delight and Sven chuckled heartily.

He set them down on the grass and turned to Yurnero, now sitting down upon a rather flat stone and sharpening his blade. She glanced at Rylai, waving her staff all about the place and excitedly animating their great escape to Sven, and crossed over to sit next to the Juggernaut.

She planted herself upon a barrel set on its side, smiling, "So, who am I to thank for my miraculous survival?"

Yurnero glanced at her. "Well, I'd like to take credit but it seems Rylai's already done it for me."

Lanaya followed his gaze to the other two of their team. Sven was sitting calmly on the grass while Rylai pounced on him, trying to push him over. He barely flinched and didn't budge, chuckling and sending her tumbling away effortlessly, shrieking gleefully.

She laughed and waved the two of them aside dismissively. "Hah, puppy love at its finest."

The Juggernaut nodded slightly, "But still love."

Lanaya glanced at him, smirked, and back to Rylai rolling around Sven in the grass. She sighed, "Still love."

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><p>Rylai yelped as a branch snagged on her cape and pulled off a few strands of fur. "Argh! At this rate there'll be nothing left on me when I get back."<p>

Sven laughed as he forged through the Jungle thunderously, pushing down as many trees as he felled with his great sword. He followed behind her, towering nearly four heads over her. He looked down at her, "Well, there're a few people who'll be glad to see that."

She scowled, and muttered, "Pervert."

The Crystal Maiden raised her leg to step over a rock, her next step immediately buried itself in a tangle of roots and branches. She sighed, "I hate the Jungle. Maybe it'd be easier," she craned her neck up and called out pointedly, "IF SOMEONE COULD MAYBE CLEAR THE WAY!"

While Sven followed behind Rylai, the Juggernaut led the way through the Jungle, agilely navigating his way through the wild undergrowth, his sword sheathed.

"You know, swords are good for cutting trees! For your teammates to walk!"

…

"You're smiling under that mask aren't you?"

…

"You know I-"

"Oh shut up," Sven mock-grumbled, bending down and picking Rylai up by her waist, throwing her over his shoulder. She screamed and struggled but she still squirmed around to sit comfortably on his shoulder, her fingertips brushing the canopy if she reached up.

Lanaya brought up the rear, easily following in the huge path of fallen and trampled greenery that Sven left in his wake, glancing back occasionally for a shred of dark red and black colours in the labyrinth of greys and darks.

As Rylai chattered on about her greatly illustrated version of their escape, Lanaya squinted into the dark as she saw shadows moving in the shadows, yellow, dirty eyes blinking back from the dark. There were creatures in the woods, kobolds, vhouls, satyrs and even a huge she-wolf who stalked the Jungle roads with her cubs for prey. And there were other things, stranger things. Lanaya kept her psi blades at the ready, following closely to her team.

Sven called out, "What's wrong, Lanaya? Too intimidated by my magnificence to speak?"

"Gods no."

He laughed and the Juggernaut asked, "So, Rylai tells us that there were, what, a thousand creeps between you and the exit? That even with our life threatening efforts, we only distracted, ahem, 'a few'?"

Lanaya smirked. "A thousand, huh?"

She glanced up and met Rylai's eyes, staring back bright and expectantly, and scoffed, "She's being modest. Must have been a thousand five, maybe two thousand."

Yurnero scoffed, Sven laughed and Rylai giggled quietly, "Totally legit."

Lanaya shared a laugh, asking, "But what about your 'heroic stories'? I'm sure the Juggernaut and the Rogue Knight must have had a great

before the snap of a twig made her look back again. A young wildwing, barely her height, scurrying into the shadows. She sighed a sigh of relief. _Just a wildwing, just a beast. _

She wasn't at all at rest though, there was something… off. The watching eyes she saw in the dark did not unsettle her, it was the eyes she could not see in the dark that unsettled her. "Let's get to the side shop quick, the Jungle doesn't agree with me."

Yurnero glanced back, "What is it?"

"…might be nothing, but… let's just hurry up."

Rylai didn't seem fazed at all, laughing, "Look who's got the spooks. Seeing ghosts in the dark?"

_Maybe… _

Yurnero raised an arm to signal them to stop, then raised a finger to his mask where his lips would be. They must've come to the edge of one of the lanes. Lanaya walked forward to where the Juggernaut crouched, looking through the thicket. She pulled a bushel aside with a finger and saw a road of dirt, nearly ten metres wide beaten bare by countless patrols. To the left it stretched for miles and miles, grey dirt and dying trees giving way to lush and verdant green and grass far away, the lightest hint of white and blue stone where the nearest Radiant Tower was. To the right, barely thirty metres away the road curved to the side and above the canopy rose a great Pillar of black and red. She couldn't see but she knew that at its base sat at least three dozen creeps manning an outpost erected around the Tower.

Sven mused, "I still say we make a run for the Radiant side, less dangerous."

But a long hike all the way back, a journey of many days and their mission was too important to take a journey of many days. Rylai nodded, agreeing with him, but Yurnero shook his head. "Too tedious, we must be quick to return and swift on our way."

The sideshop sold cheap spell scrolls that they could use to spirit themselves back to the Radiant keep. But to reach the shop nestled in the Jungle they'd have to run straight across the lane, no cover, in clear view if any sentries on the Dire tower were feeling particularly vigilant, if any waves of patrols were roving down the lane they'd be definitely found out and the signal sounded for more reinforcements, maybe even another team of heroes to challenge them, a fresh five powerful foes against whom their wild-weary bodies would not last long.

Sven grumbled, "Still, a foolish plan. Our survival hinges on them not seeing us. It would be easier to continue Southwards through the Jungle and walk back to base."

"Easier definitely," the Juggernaut said. "But undoubtedly longer. The mission comes first, and if we take the walk it could be too late."

"The mission," Sven growled, "Will not matter if we are dead."

Lanaya nudged Rylai who sighed sadly, scoffing and looking as if asking: _Again?_

_ Again_, the girl seemed to reply with her eyes and she stood to try and settle the situation. Lanaya faced back to the path they had taken through the forest, the trees bent and plants crushed, bark scrathed where Sven's armour and sword had gouged it white. Nothing, she had fancied she'd heard something flitting through the brush. Then she realised something, the forest was silent, not even the bugs sun anymore. She cursed, why hadn't she noticed?

She backed up until her back met Juggernaut's, he glanced back in surprise and she raised a finger to her lips, whispering, "Shhh, there's something else here."

Yurnero barely reacted, he merely tensed up for a moment then relaxed. He looked at Sven, now silent, then at Rylai, also quiet, her shoulders stiffened like a plank, her eyes flitting about the shadows.

Sven growled, "We never should have come here."

They were too close to the Dire tower, too far away from their own. Lanaya's eyes delved deep into the shadows, looking desperately for any sign of their stalker, but in the tangled mess wrought by their path, the hunter could be anywhere.

_Shadows, branches, darkness_. Then she saw them, eyes in the dark, just one pair now, huge slanted orbs of yellow that met her's, and in them she saw an evil intelligence. It knew who they were, and it wanted to kill them all.

Lanaya gritted her teeth, clenching her fists as her psi blades fizzled to life. Yurnero hissed, "Back."

The beast burst forth from behind a wall of vines and branches, a huge wolf, larger than a bull, with skin like fire and fur like ash, smoke billowing from it, eyes that trailed with a yellow flame. The beast swiped with both its front paws in great scything arcs, narrowly missing Lanaya as she bent backwards out of the way.

She felt herself falling backwards and threw one of her arms forward, sending a psi blade shooting and rolling back with the momentum. She looked up and saw a fresh scorch mark in the wolf's side but it was unfazed, growling, its snout peeled back over canines eighteen inches long. Yurnero slid forward and pulled Lanaya to her feet, readying his blade to strike, Rylai stood next to her and Sven brushed past all of them, standing like a shield between the other three and the wolf.

Lanaya looked around Sven and saw the wolf pacing back and forth, keeping just out of reach of Rylai's magic and Sven's sword reach, snarling and taking short swipes through the air at them. She knew about this beast, she'd even seen him, not as a beast but as a man, grizzled and rough with metal claws over his hands, and when he wanted to he could change into a giant beast that was unstoppable, inescapable, fatal.

But the lethal wolf didn't attack, it stayed where it was, watching them, eyes locked upon them, advancing a foot or two almost unnoticeably. Sven backed up as it lunged, forcing the rest of them backwards. He swung his sword in a great cleave but the wolf had already jumped out of the way. Sven tried to advance again but the wolf lunged and its claws scratched a pattern on his chest, forcing him and the rest of the team even further back.

_What game was this Wolf playing at? _Lanaya narrowed her eyes at the way it prowled, the way its back arched, the way its paws played little circles in the fallen leaves and branches. This beast was toying with them, it knew it could kill them, if it wanted to it could latch its claws onto one of them and spirit them away in an instant, so why didn't it? If the Wolf got too close and let itself get frozen by Rylai then they would kill it in a heartbeat, why was it still here? Why was it taking this risk?

The Wolf pounced again, entangling itself around Sven and wrapping its jaws around his helmet. It was so heavy that Sven's knees actually bent with its added weight, Rylai yelped, "Sven!"

Yurnero leapt forward to strike it heavily and Lanaya drew her arm back but the Wolf leapt backwards off of Sven, digging its heels into the soil and sliding to a stop, a psi blade soaring into air and Rylai's spell shooting through space, freezing the canopy overhead into an icy diorama. The Lycan snarled and Lanaya realised that it had forced them back a few metres.

_What was it doing? _She watched it intently, the Lycan was pushing them back, to where? _The thicket. _And what was on the other side? _The Lane. _

It was trying to get them out into the open. Clear sightlines, no cover, no protection, they'd be vulnerable. Her eyes widened and she looked around, fearful now. _It's an ambush._

Lanaya pulled Yurnero back, growling, "It's a trap, he wants us to run."

"So we stand and fight," Sven roared.

"We have no other choice," the Juggernaut agreed.

The Wolf heard them, its ears flicking almost irritated. It knew but it didn't run, it knew it couldn't beat them in a straight fight. _It's not alone._

Lanaya scanned the shadows of the undergrowth, the branches, the canopy. A tiny pinprick of light off to the side, hidden in the branches. It could have been a ray of sunlight, but she looked closer. An ember left on the bark, the wood scorched black where a footprint of bones had graced it.

The twang of a box, the scream of an arrow. A burst of sparks and cinders as the branches were ripped apart by a bolt of fire that flashed past them, striking the ground between Rylai's feet. The girl yelped and didn't dare to move, the broadhead arrow still alight with flames that licked her legs.

More arrows rained down in a roar like a great furnace, raining as fiery stars down upon them. Yurnero grunted as one caught him squarely in the gut, then as he bent over in pain, another in his back. Sven immediately disregarded the Lycan, running for Rylai and wrapping himself around her as the arrows sunk deeply into his back, flaming like a dozen candles. An arrow struck Lanaya's left arm, it was like someone had sunk a footwide poker into her flesh, forcing her bones apart, oh, and the poker was on fire. She watched in horror as her psi blade seemed to waver like a candle flame. Lanaya leant to the side as another arrow flew past and bore a scorched hole through her sleeve.

Sven picked up Rylai in his arms, his back now stuck full of arrows like a pin cushion, and he turned and thrust his armoured fist into the direction of the hidden archer. His gauntlet, frozen in the shape of a fist, flew off with a shower of sparks and yellow bolts arching off it. The stormbolt disappeared into the canopy, connected with something hidden with a crack of bones. The metal gauntlet came flying back and followed Sven as he barrelled out through the thicket. Lanaya knew they couldn't afford to stay in the Jungle with this unnatural archer firing upon them, ducking down and following after Yurnero as he ran through the new hole in the thicket onto the Lane.

The ground underfoot turned from cracked soil piled with dead leaves to sand and dirt, hard and well-worn of all green. The Dire Tower was visible now, the Jungle on the other side of the Lane only ten metres away. Lanaya crouched and wrench the arrow in her arm out, wincing. Sven, with Rylai in one arm and his Rogue Blade in the other, was running for the Radiant Towers far away, Yurnero was facing the Jungle where the side shop was, yelling, "Sven! Sven!"

The great Wolf burst from the Jungle, racing like a shadow and cutting off Sven's path to the tower, he raised his blade with one hand as the beast raced forward, now bent to kill. He swung the blade and the Wolf leaped over the swing completely, colliding with the Knight and sending Rylai and his blade flying out of his grasp. Lanaya ran for them as she saw Sven grappling with the Wolf, trying his best to not collapse under the weight of the larger, ferocious animal.

Yurnero looked at her and tensed up, he shouted with an uncommon emotion she couldn't place. "Down!"

She turned to look at him, her mind still set on helping Sven and Rylai. He crossed the distance between them in a few steps, yelling out something that seemed to fade away too quickly. _Something's going to happen, something's going to go wrong. _

Lanaya saw everything seem to slow down, every detail bore bare for her. Yurnero sprinting for her, his sword, so precious to him, thrown in the dirt. Sven's arms bending as the Lycanthrope pushed down, its snapping jaws scraping against his helmet, Rylai picking up her sceptre and aiming it at the Wolf. She felt Yurnero tackle her, his strong arms around her waist as the Juggernaut forced the both of them to the dirt. An arrow, alight with flame, soaring over their heads where she'd been. It would've struck her in the back of her neck. The arrow flew a bit more and she realised that if Yurnero had merely pushed her down it would've sunk into his chest, inches from his heart.

Then things seemed to return, the sounds she hadn't noticed were gone came back, the Wolf snapping, the crack of ice as the Lycan froze solid, the crackle of fire. Yurnero lay over her, the blood from her arm trickling down and over his. She smiled under her mask, "Thanks."

An arrow flew, this one fast as life, brutally tangible as it cracked the Juggernaut's ivory mask, sinking straight into his eye.

* * *

><p>So, leave a review on whether you liked it, where you think I should go from here, and if you didn't like it I'm always open to criticism.<p> 


	3. The Keep, Part I

Hey everybody, PassiveBot here with another chapter. I hope you enjoy it, leave a review on what you thought, and I hope you enjoy!

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><p>His eye. It had gotten him straight in the eye.<p>

The impact of the arrow made his head snap back on his neck, his body going slack as he went limp and fell backwards into the dirt.

Lanaya watched him, her mind still sharp and clear. _Yurnero's been shot. In the eye. In the head. He's bleeding out right now. My friend is dying. _

His body there seemed unreal, the way his hands scrabbled weakly at his mask, as if unsure where he'd been shot, his legs kicking weakly. This wasn't him, he was strong, sure of himself, he knew what he was and he knew what to do. Always.

Then her chest clenched, she lunged forwards at him and grabbed him, her sight becoming blurry as she stuttered, "N-No, no, no, no, no, no-"

He turned to face her, then turned away, then back to her, his breath hard, forced, laboured, painful, his chest rising and falling quick and hard. His head lolled to the side and said softly, almost surprised, "I can't…"

_The blood must have gotten into his other eye, _the calculative part of her remarked.

The arrow stuck out from the eyehole of his mask, she wrapped her fingers around the base of the shaft and he groaned in pain, his hands pushing her away weakly. "No… no…"

"What?"

_Stupid, if I pull the arrow out then there will be space for the vessels to bleed. He will die. _

Lanaya didn't care, she cradled his mask in her arms, the blood from the arrow wound on her arm flowing over her skin and onto the ivory. "Please, you can't die, you can't…"

He said almost like a tired sigh, like a light breeze. "Back, back."

_Back…_

They needed to get back. Lanaya looked up and saw the Jungle where the Sideshop was hidden, she pulled her sash from her mouth and used it to wipe her tears, grabbing one of Yurnero's arms and pulling him over her shoulders.

An arrow stuck into the ground next to her, Lanaya looked to Sven and saw him pry himself from the frozen Lycan, caught and frozen mid pounce, Rylai following as they ran to her. They knew something was wrong.

"Lanaya!"

She stood and ran, ran for the forest as fast she could. Yurnero was heavy, his head hanging over her shoulder and his mask digging into the side of her neck. Hanging down, the blood began to trickle out of both eyeholes, staining her armour.

_So close_, the Jungle was metres away, she only needed to-

Pain, her knee bent as she felt her right leg consumed by pain and fire. An arrow, through her calf, the fletched end on one side and the bloody broadhead on the other. She tried to keep herself upright, to keep going. Yurnero's life was in her hands, and it was trickling away every moment she wasted dying herself.

Sven's voice, right behind her, "Yurnero? What happened!?"

"Oh god," the Maiden's voice breathed.

"We… we need to get to the shop, we need to get back now…"

Lanaya couldn't even bring her head up to look at them, she couldn't do anything, she couldn't stand, she couldn't walk. Wide, metal gauntlets wrenched Yurnero from her, she tried to resist for a moment before she remembered it was only Sven. He threw Yurnero over his shoulder like a ragdoll and stood over Rylai, holding Yurnero's discarded blade, as she supported Lanaya, flinching now as the arrows sunk into him. He hadn't flinched before.

Rylai's tiny frame was shaking as she supported her friend, moving forward at a slower pace now, her staff on her back and Yurnero's sword in her other hand. But they were close, soon the Jungle swallowed them whole.

Sven forged on ahead towards the sideshop, no longer arguing, Rylai panting now, her sweat freezing on her skin. Lanaya looked around, a horrible feeling in her already wound up gut. She cast her eyes around in what could only be paranoia. "There's one more… one more here… waiting for us."

Rylai grabbed her sapphire sceptre with her free hand, pulling it off her back and pointing it around in fear, hobbling along with Lanaya leaning against her.

A rustle of branches and leaves behind them. Rylai turned them around to see their third attacker, a slim, armoured figure half hidden in the shadows, a cape of grey splayed out behind her, a high ponytail falling from the back of her helmet.

_Mortred_, she wasn't sure if she said it or thought it, but the Phantom Assassin seemed to hear. The Assassin looked at the two of them intensely for a few seconds, her glaive held at her side, ready to strike, her legs curled up ready to jump.

Her intense, yet soft eyes seemed ambiguous and unreadable, her other hand around the daggers on her belt. She regarded them slowly, then nodded to Lanaya, turning and disappearing into the shadows. Rylai asked in confusion, "What?"

"Just, move."

Sven's huge figure was snarling at a large but comparatively dimunitive figure, a hunchbacked man with a grubby face and large hands, standing in front of a shop which was nothing but a table laid with goods under a patchwork canopy of canvas, crates stacked in the back. Sven threw three silver coins on the table, the shopkeeper produced three portal scrolls. The Rogue Knight growled, "Do you not see whom I carry? Four!"

"Three scrolls for three hundred, if you don't got coin then move along."

Sven raised his sword threateningly, "I will have four scrolls for four people, as a trophy or as a gift, you decide."

The Shopkeeper sneered snobbily, "You ain't smart ar'ya? I'm a shopkeepah', kill me and see what happens to 'ya, 'hero'."

Rylai pulled out one last silver coin and threw it at the shopkeeper. He greedily took the last one, holding it up to the light and biting it. "A'ight, four scrolls for four hundred."

Sven laid Juggernaut down, puppeteering Yurnero and making him grab one of the scrolls, throwing it down. The scroll broke apart into ash and from it rose a column of light, engulfing Yurnero, only a shadow left in the middle of the pillar of light. Sven threw the next two to Rylai who immediately gave one to Lanaya, the Rogue Knight was last to use his.

She threw her scroll down on the ground, it rolled open automatically and she felt herself surrounded by a warm sensation, safety, warmth. She was going back to safety.

Yurnero's shadow disappeared and his column of light disappeared, Rylai next. Lanaya smiled to herself, they were already out of here.

The trees burst apart and Lanaya saw a huge Wolf, skin like fire, fur like smoke, jaws stretched open and bounding towards them. She felt herself pulled away from the scene, her skin torn at by a strong wind as her vision tunnelled and her hair whipped around her. She saw Sven, shrouded in light, raise his arms in defence as the Lycan fell upon him, she opened her mouth to scream his name, she didn't know why. There was no way he wouldn't come home with them, the portal should work, it _would_ work.

Then the wind grew so strong she closed her eyes and was spirited away.

* * *

><p>And when she opened them again her feet were buried in soft soil, the long, prickly grass rising to her knees, the wet blades tracing across her skin. Worn ivory buildings, moonwells, barracks, simpler shelters made of canvas and flags draped over stakes stuck in the ground, Creeps, these ones with skin like sinewy bark, thick bushels leaves upon their shoulders and vines hanging from their horns. Tall white walls with carved tops rose many metres into the sky, the great Towers of blue and grey rising even taller. A great bluish light to the side, deeper into the Radiant Keep where the Ancient lay dormant.<p>

Lanaya looked around at the Creeps, running across the grass, some with weapons, others with tools, all seeming not to see her. She felt faint, weak, unsteady on her own feet as she took a step forward. _This is all normal, I teleported while wounded, this… this is allnormal…_

She had honestly thought she couldn't get motion sickness from teleporting anymore. Her foot pulled itself from the soil, spoiling the grass carpet with uprooted brown, and fell forward. _That's one._

She slid her other foot forward, the moment she put her weight on it her knee bent like a reed, she collapsed to the ground and gritted her teeth in pain, looking down at her calf. The arrow impaled through her calf winked back, the fire upon its fletching doused by her blood.

A creep noticed her and turned to look, its glowing yellow eyes widened and it ran to her side, throwing the hammer in its hand to one side and calling, "We've got a wounded hero!"

More glowing eyes turned to look and they rushed to her side, pulling her up to her feet and supporting her forward a few metres. One of them looked back and yelled, "Someone get the Keeper!"

They helped her stagger along some distance more, before a few of them produced a stretcher, really just a Radiant flag stretched across two spears. She let her body fall onto the stretcher, watching her blood soak into the white cloth. Blood… she wondered how Sven was doing, with his back stuck full of arrows like a pin cushion. Rylai was probably trying to help him pull out the arrows while the Shadow Shaman worked his medicines, and Yurnero-

_Yurnero!_

She sat straight up and grabbed the creep next to her, her hand disappearing in its coat of leaves. "The Juggernaut! Where is he?"

"I-I don't-"

She turned to another, this one also taken aback by how wild her eyes must seem. She grabbed its necklace of ivory stones and pulled it close, growling, "Where is my team? I want to see my team!"

The sound of bare hooves thudding against soil, Lanaya tried to look up over the shoulders of the Creeps but the pain in her leg seemed to be infectious, biting through her flesh and radiating through her entire body, like a hot, fanged writhing in her. She dropped back down to her stretcher, surrounded by a wall of green and brown bodies, a circle of painfully bright Sunlight above, helpless as she waited.

A voice, old and wizened, the Keeper of the Light. Ezalor's head poked over those of the Creeps, his smile replaced by a frown that deepened his wrinkles into valleys. "Mi'Lady, Lanaya."

Her eyes were filled with tears as she bit down on her mask, trying not to scream in agony. She managed through clenched teeth, "Yur…nero."

"He is at the Fountain, rest assured, Mi'Lady, you will be taken to him immediately."

"I… my team…"

Ezalor had no answer for this, he closed his eyes almost sadly. Lanaya felt a pang of emotion that pierced her twisting agony for a moment. She looked at him desperately, "What is it?"

He pointed towards the far away fountain with his staff, grimly saying, "Haste to you, Mi'Lady."

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><p>They carried her up flights of stairs, they carried her so long she gave up hope of ever leaving the pain, like a snake that squeezed her wrathfully, tightest coiled around her ankles, its teeth sunk into her chest, piercing her lungs.<p>

Her mind was too clouded to think logically, her sub conscious side of logic watched the buildings that now rose into her view over the Creeps that carried her stretcher. _More buildings here, more compact. The Quarters. _

She writhed on the stretcher, rolling her head from side to side, groaning in pain as she saw herself carried under a broken archway, the afternoon heat replaced with cooling mist that settled lightly on her skin. Her stretcher was brought through a flap of canvas, the sky blotted out with the roof of a white tent and her stretcher set down, her body brought onto a table of stone and a pillow pushed under her head. The Creeps that had carried her here left silently through the tent flap and were followed by a figure that entered, stooped, hunched almost double over with eyes that squinted at her. Crooked teeth, a sinewy and malnourished body with hands too large that he kept suspended at his sides.

Rhasta, the Shadow Shaman, and one of the most skilled medicine men the Radiant had. He pulled the tent flap open and yelled in what could be a strong accent or a lisp, "It's one of Yurnero's!"

He let the tent flap go shut and crossed to her side, his magic wands swinging from his sides. She looked at him, forcing out through dry lips, "I… I…"

"Hush, little crow." Rhasta shushed her brusquely and pulled a round vial of something green, sloshing like a thin wine. He wrenched off the cork with a bit of difficulty, saying, almost growling, "This will ease the pain."

He held the bottle over her calf, the light streaming from the slit of the tent flap refracting into strange colours through the liquid. The Shaman rubbed his other hand in the air and leaves she hadn't noticed were there before were ground by his wiry fingers, falling in dry slivers over her. His wrist moved a mechanical motion that came only from experience, the thin green elixir trickling out and splashing onto her calf.

Lanaya watched the liquid seep into her wound, green mixing with dark red, discolouring her skin even further. She knew it would hurt, she felt her lips moving in silent prayer as she waited for the pain to return renewed.

Her head fell back against her pillow and her eyes were forced shut, not of their own accord and she felt herself forced into darkness.

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><p>Hey everybody, PassiveBot here with a message from the talented Bol, the original creator of this story.<p>

*ahem* Hello peoples, I'm Bol, I wrote up the first drafts for this story and am not ashamed to say that I had very much given up on my writing hobby until PassiveBot, who plays the role of the omnisciently helpful friend, encouraged me to get back into it. The reason I'm writing this is to tell all of you, reading this now, do not be afraid to write. I was, at first, seeing all the other stories with dozens of reviews and hundreds of favourites, and how simple my stories were at first. But just write, and write, and read and edit and write and read and write and you'll be amazed at the progress you make. But what's a heartfelt message without a bit of shameless self-advertising? You can find me on Steam under the usename: Bot. That's right, just Bot, inspiration from my friend PassiveBot, and my profile is just a picture of a rather derpy grey cat with its tongue out. _Au revoir_, friends.

P.S. this chapter is titled 'The Keep, Part 1', but next chapter will not be on the Radiant Keep but will instead be from the POV of a different hero, leave a review telling me from which hero's point of view you'd like the next chapter to be.


	4. Bone Chimes and Meat Bags

The first portion of this story will be told from the POV of Clinkz, while the second part will be told from the POV of noone in particular but more of a third person style. I've still not decided who to make a full chapter POV on.

Note: This is but an artistic impression we had on how to develop Clinkz's character, inspiration taken from his bio and quotes and how he still seems loyal to the King Mage but also filled with wrath for his enemies.

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><p>"<em>What the hell was that!<em>"

Clinkz clutched an arrow in one skeletal hand, the broadhead broken off, the shaft smouldering slightly. He shook his skull in irritation, glowing embers raining from his horns and eyes, his heart ablaze with flames and dripping with a viscous, black tar that burnt into foul fumes immediately. He glared at the wench in front of him, a dark, caped figure with a glaive by her side. Mortred, the Phantom Assassin, glared at him nonchalantly, simply saying, "It was a plan that failed."

It was an unbelievably simple plan. Clinkz had overhead their escape plans while scouting out their positions so they knew exactly what the Radiant Heroes would have done. Banehollow, the Lycanthrope, would herd them onto the Lane where Clinkz had clear shots of all of them. The Lycan would cut off their escape across the River crossing and Mortred would wait in the sideshop Jungle to cut down any stragglers.

They stood where the Lane met the Jungle, the ground littered with arrows and blood, footprints stamped into the dust where their quarry had ran. Mortred hugged the shadows under the trees while Clinkz bent down to retrieve his arrows.

_Traitor!_ One side of him screamed. _Pierce her heart for the King-Mage, one arrow through her flesh. _

_ We… I serve only the Direstone, I heed only the orders of Ostarion the Wraith King…_

_ Heretic! Befouler of the air you breathe! Strike us down for the King-Mage, we are tainted by foul sorceries! Embrace Death!_

Clinkz had listened to these voices for so long that he didn't bother about them anymore, not sure which one he was and which one he wasn't. He considered the words of Fury, the first voice, and then the words of Calm, the second voice.

Mortred angled her glaive at him, noting, "Maybe if you'd waited and followed the plan instead of shooting early, this wouldn't have happened."

He growled, "We had the upper hand!"

"We were outnumbered," Mortred scoffed, leaning against a tree and pretending to sharpen her daggers.

"They were four weary and worn flesh bags! We were three strong and powerful, we _should have killed them all_!"

Mortred smirked and pointed out, "But still three. They had the Rogue Knight, and if you happen to be dumb as well as blind-"

_Silence this wench! Immolate her! Set her ablaze!_ Fury snarled.

"-you'd know we'd have no chance against him."

_She does pose a reasonable stance,_ Calm pointed out.

Clinkz wrapped his skeletal hand around the arrow till the wood splinted in two. "Banehollow would have ripped the man-thing's throat out! No, they got away because _you_ let them!"

The Phantom Assassin paused and looked up slowly, affixing him with a glare, her deep set teal eyes watching him warily. Clinkz noticed how her hand tightened around her glaive's handle, how her feet shifted for her to jump at him at an instant, and his free hand reached behind and wrapped around the fletching of an arrow in his quiver.

_Just shoot, _Fury hissed.

_She is an ally_, Calm sighed.

Then she relaxed, laughing, high and haughtily. She flicked out her dagger and started throwing it into the air, catching it easily. "I do hope you're not implying that I'm a traitor, because that would be lying, and I _hate liars_."

She emphasised the last two words in a thinly veiled threat. Clinkz stepped back, he knew in a straight battle he'd have little chance against Mortred, he was fast but she'd dodge half his shots.

_Liar? Liar? She dare accuse us!? First Servant of Sutherex? Blasphemer!_

_She is not an immediate threat._

He looked at her, fire dim but hotter than usual, scorching the dry ground around him. The evidence was undeniable, the Radiant Heroes stagger into where she lies in wait, and she does not kill a single one. What's more, the Lycanthrope, who followed behind in his bloodlust to kill, disappears. Fury and Calm both seemed to babble incoherently a moment more, but both labelled her the same word.

_Traitor. _

Clinkz took another step back, growling lowly and kneeling down to pull another arrow out of the dirt. This one's head was also broken off. He stepped into a patch of blood soaked earth, now dried a deep maroon. At least he'd gotten one, a perfect headshot.

_One? One? You got one? One out of four is none at all! _Fury snarled.

_Ostarion will not be pleased_, Calm lamented.

* * *

><p>Ostarion was not pleased.<p>

Green mist rolled lightly off his form, as large as he was in life long before even the Kingdom of Bones, rising eight feet into the air. The chamber had been built to accommodate the largest Heroes they had, many metres taller than Ostarion with great braziers of blazing coals in each of the seven corners.

A great table dominated the centre of the room, the Wraith King sitting at its head, the other five figures seated captured in various states. The Wraith King's fist had born deep dents in the stone tabletop, his chair was the largest and grandest, inlaid with green gems and bones, his huge sword leaning against his chair's side. On his right sat a beautiful woman with a bored expression, giant bat wings folded neatly as she cleaned her nails with a long knife, horns poking out of her braided hair. The seat on his right was empty, where the Necrophos usually sat, listening intently to every word. The next was a Meranth, a huge thing like a fish and a man crossed crammed uncomfortably into the wooden chair, its lurelight illuminating the map carved into the stone table, lips peeled back in an expression unreadable by those he dubbed 'surface dwellers'. After him, a man in sharp, tined armour, a single metal horn rising from his helmet, the colours of the House Avernus draped over his armour as a cloak, his expression as unreadable, only two eyes recognisable in the dark of his helmet. The last was something else, if it was a man it was an unbelievably tall man, thin and slender, his skin blue and tiny lightning bolts arcing off him and striking the table, scorching the black and red mottled stone.

Ostarion looked at all of them in turn, Akasha, the missing Necrophos, Slardar, Abaddon and Razor, the Circle of his greatest allies, tools actually, that he used to govern the Dire Legion. He regarded them, contempt in his eyes. "This is ridiculous, I send a whole team to secure a simple spell tome and look what happens. Three of them go off to 'secure kills' and lose one of our's for nothing, the only one who bothers about the mission, my most heeded advisor Rotund'jere, is defeated by two girls, _and _he loses our prize. Perfect. PERFECT!"

He punctuated the last word with another strike to the table, so hard it shook the almost ton-heavy stone. Ostarion let himself fall back into his seat, looking at them silently, as if measuring how much each one of them disappointed him. He gestured to Razor, "What secrets have been whispered into your ears."

The Lightning Revenant, the 'procurer' of secrets in their little group, rose, clearing his throat showily. He stood sophisticatedly and spoke with mocking prose, "Of course, my Liege. I hear many secrets these days, the ones freshest in my head are of a team of Heroes returning from a 'routine mission'. There are those that say that their actual purpose was to obtain an artefact of untold importance."

Ostarion nodded, "And our informant?"

"The fewer ears hear the names I know, the better for us all. One of our own in the field, Clinkz the Bone Fletcher, had managed to pierce the skull of one of them, a fatal wound no doubt."

The King grunted, "We will see. Will they try to use the tome?"

"Untold, but if Sylla learns of its power, he will undoubtedly do so."

The Wraith King rubbed his chin and beard with something that approached worry, and this was truly unsettling. Whoever had that tome could tip the scales of the War. His expression was thoughtful, as unreadable as the shadows that lingered in the crevices of the carved map.

Akasha spoke up, still inspecting her nails, painted blood red. "I think the answer is very simple. Get me one of their Heroes, give me a few hours and I'll have all the answers you need. If not, rinse and repeat."

Slardar took the chance and hissed in his slow, meandering voice, "N-o-o-o, I say we prepa-a-a-a-are our, f-our-tee-fee-cations. Prepa-a-are for their atta-a-ack."

Razor, still standing, scoffed, "Hah! Whatever defences we could raise will be useless against what they could summon with that tome! Sire, do not heed this _fish_, I propose we-"

The Slithereen rose and bared his jaws, revealing jaws full of huge backwards curving teeth. "Wha-a-at did you s-s-s-say? A _f-f-f-f-fish _am I?"

Ostarion grew visibly annoyed with their bickering, fists clenching.

Akasha glanced at them in boredom, saying in a sing-song voice, "Toooorture, equals, aaaaaanswers."

Abaddon rose as well, "This is pointless. The solution is plain-"

"Oh then _please_ enlighten us," Razor spat.

Ostarion roared, "Enough! Sit! All of you!"

A moment as the three standing glanced at each other as if waiting for one of them to go first, then they all sat. Ostarion chuckled, "There, much better. Now, Abaddon, what is it you propose?"

Abaddon glanced at Razor as if expecting some snarky comment. "My solution would have been to inform the Radiant of the power of the spell tome, now in their hands, through an 'unfortunately' captured Hero of our's. The summoning can only be completed at a certain spot, am I right?"

Eyes turned to the Lightning Revenant. "Of course, the Silver Glade, in the Radiant Jungle."

"There," Abaddon continued. "So we have our sleeper agent inform them of the tome's power, maybe even let it slip that we know nothing of it. And when, in their enthusiasm to win this war, they go to the Glade to enact the summoning, they find a team of Heroes in wait for them."

The Wraith King nodded as he listened. "This plan could work. I know Razor has many willing informants in the Radiant's network, but a willing Hero of our's is required, one who can convince them of the artifact's power. One who can tell a blatant lie as truth in the face of Sylla's interrogators."

Razor gestured in a flourishing manner. "Allow me to orchestrate this brilliant plan, my King, after all my spies will be necessary to its success."

"You will find a suitable spy to tip them off," Ostarion ordered, "And you will find a suitable Hero to be captured by our enemy. But out on the field…"

He looked at Abaddon. "You will have command. It is your plan after all."

"Of course."

"Now leave me, I have been troubled enough for this meeting."


	5. The Keep, Part II

So, here's an unusual break from the norm and I've decided to write a more laid back chapter.

* * *

><p>Lanaya sat on the white stone rim of the Fountain, eyeing the huge curtain of leaves over a twisted a gnarled tree trunk, vines pulled taut over the archway to the Fountain. White towers and buildings rose over the walls that guarded the courtyard, too high to climb out, the only entrance guarded watchfully by the barrier of growth.<p>

She'd already tried to leave twice, the first time the vines had just picked her up and deposited her by the Fountain side, the second time she'd actually gotten past the huge tree trunk in the centre of the barricade, but a root raised itself and tripped her, earning her a light gash and an extra week confined to the Fountain. Negotiation didn't work either, the tree didn't seem to register her words, only giving the occasional rustle of leaves or an earthy groan. The company here wasn't much better, a single person in a brown tattered cloak huddled in a corner.

The walls were gigantic, tall and gargantuan, on two sides she could see the sky and the crowns of buildings above, on two other sides were dark, even taller walls, even more ancient with green hanging down its sides. The Fountain itself was huge, a triple tiered structure made of white stone, rising many metres into the air and the lowest tier almost a dozen in diameter, a clear, blue elixir bubbling serenely from its summit and flowing lazily. The structure looked built for much more liquid than it held, what there was only fell in thin waterfalls where the stone lips of the tiers were cracked and chipped. Lanaya didn't know what happened to the water, or whatever it was, when it reached the last tier, it seemed to just disappear and bubble back up out the highest tier.

The water was cold, clear and seemed to sing with a high note as it trickled with a steady pulse, it was hardly warm but it seemed to steam, letting off clear lines of pale, fragrant smoke. _Something cool, like berries. Or leaves. I hate leaves. _

The ancient worn tiles underfoot were overgrown with grass that should be pricking her bare feet, instead the blades of green were soft as feathers and luscious like silk. Sylla, the most respected and generally followed voice in the Keep, had 'encouraged' her to take extended leave from field duty as she healed. That could be anywhere from two weeks to seven months. Seven months, cut off from the outside world, disallowed contact with her team. She didn't even know if Yurnero was alive, or how Rylai or Sven were. It should bother her but it didn't really, she just really felt like meditating. She hadn't meditated since she'd left the Hidden Temple. Strange, the first few days she'd really wanted to leave, but now…

Lanaya sat perched on the lip of the lowest tier of the Fountain, dressed in a light, very drafty gown she didn't remember wearing. The thought of the Shadow Shaman changing her clothes was off putting for her so she didn't try to think about it, but at least he had let her keep her scarf. She let a hand dangle over the inside of the fountain and drift through the waters, a little hangnail on her thumb that had been bugging her for days mended itself immediately. She sighed in relief.

A rustle and creaking of bark, the wall of greenery pulled itself apart and Lanaya turned to see people walking in, actual visitors. Two women, one all done up in a rather revealing green outfit with an unstrung bow slung across her back next to a quiver, the other a dark figure, accompanied by an air of shadow, a light mist curling off her back where there were two useless feathered stumps, her hoofed feet stamping light prints in the grass. The first, a beaming Lyralei, and the second, a grim Shendelzare who seemed quietly concerned and reserved, as usual.

Lanaya waved and called out, "Hey! About time you came down 'ere!"

Lyralei swung a leg over the side of the Fountain and giggled, "Looks like someone's happy."

Shendelzare lightly sat herself down on Lanaya's other side, nodding respectfully and crossing her legs prudently while the Windrunner leant back and waved her legs around carelessly. Shen gave a small smile, "Well it's a change, you're not making snarky remarks anymore."

"And I love it," Lyralei said.

Lanaya turned her head slightly, folding her hands on her lap. "You know, it's the strangest thing, it's like everything matters so little now."

"Sorry we couldn't make it before," Shen apologised, "We just got back a few days ago from down at the Bottom Lane Tower."

"Oh you should have been there, girl, it was cray man. There was this fellow, like a tiny green midget skeleton we batted around for a while, kept on going on about how he'd send us all to the Nether Reaches."

Lanaya smiled back, then noticed something about the Windrunner's face. She cocked her head and tapped the side of her own nose, asking, "Woooh, what's with the piercing, Windrunner?"

Lyralei blushed and asked vainly, turning so the side of her face with the piercing faced them, "Oh, this? Hm, it's just a thing I'm trying out."

Shen rolled her eyes, "It's Wind_ranger_ now, and it's her latest phase."

Lyralei did seem to be dressed in more revealing clothes than usual, which was saying something, all she had on were green leggings, a tight jacket buttoned at her midriff and a green scarf. The three of them were just about the closest she had to a clique, Lyralei being the flirty one, Shen being the mysterious, reserved one, Rylai being the naïve one and Lanaya being the sarcastic, witty one. At least she thought so.

"Talking about 'latest'," Lyralei pulled off her quiver, devoid of arrows, and tipped it over, emptying out a stack of letters and notes onto the lip of the Fountain. "Let's see what uh, our, _ahem_, fellow heroes sent to you."

She cleared her throat theatrically, pulling out a plain white piece of paper with plain black letters printed out onto it. "Let's see, from Sylla himself. '_Swiftest recovery to you, may your presence be felt and voice be heard at our next meeting. You and your friends will be sorely missed 'till you return to us_'."

Lanaya shyly asked, "So Yurnero's still like… dying?"

Lyralei pointed out, "Not dying per se, he's still down under at the Emergency Ward."

_Well he's definitely getting more visitors than me_. Yurnero in general was a more important person than her.

Shen took the next note off the top of the pile, a golden note with meticulously written letters more like runes you'd find in an old tome. She read out in her flowery accent, "From Purist Thunderwrath, the Omniknight. '_The Flesh is weak, but your Spirit is strong and willing to live. A swift return I wish upon you, Yurnero and Rylai alike_'."

Lyralei made a retching motion.

"Furthermore, '_I heard a rumour you caught glimpse of the Phantom Assassin during your mission, I was perhaps wondering if I could inquire about her for reconnaissance purposes, after you have recovered of course_'."

They shared a knowing look, Mortred was an on off member of their gang whenever she snuck over from the Dire side of the battlefield. She was a fun girl but rumours were always afly about her and Purist secretly seeing each other.

Lyralei picked up the next one, a letter written on a black letter with fancy silver calligraphy. She cleared her throat, "This one is by a Shendelzare, dated yesterday. Oooh, it's a poem."

Shen reached out but Lyralei backed up, holding the note out of reach. The Skywrath began, "No please, just let me-"

The Windrunner, _ranger_, grinned evilly, and recited in a warbly imitation of Shen's accent:

_'Hope is the thing with feathers_

_That perches in the soul, _

_And sings the tune without the words, _

_And never stops at all,  
><em>

_And sweetest in the gale is heard_

_And sore must be the storm _

_That could abash the little bird _

_That kept so many warm.'_

Shen shielded her face with embarrassment and looked away while Lyralei continued, "_ 'Much love from your friend, Shendelzare_.' Oh look, there's a little drawing of a bird over here, that's cute."

Lanaya smiled and pushed Shen playfully, "That was sweet."

"Just kill me now…"

The Templar Assassin noticed the other patient in the Fountain Courtyard, the cloaked figure, seemed to turn to face them slightly.

Lyralei continued with the next one, a purple note with pink flowery calligraphy in extravagant letters. "Oh, this is a pretty one."

"Whoever this is, she has some beautiful handwriting," Lanaya remarked, glancing at the note.

" '_If but I could express the sorrow I feel in my heart for your condition with words, but alas they fail me in this moment of most crucial necessity!' _" Lyralei feigned a swoon as she laughed, " _'For the chance to be at your side in this hour of need.' _So beautiful. '_From…_" her mouth fell agape. " '_Magina, the Anti-Mage_'."

Lanaya tried to hold in her laughter, she really did, even Shen couldn't hold back a giggle as Lyralei squealed with mirth and Lanaya laughed. The Windranger finished, "_ 'P.S, hope you like the colour, and do not think I have forgotten your friends. A speedy recovery to the Juggernaut and the Crystal Maiden'._"

Lanaya frowned, noticing something. "Wait, wait a moment."

She pulled the next letter out, one from Rubick the Grand Magus. At the bottom of the veritable essay it read: _Health, to the indomitable Lanaya, the beautiful Rylai, and the steadfast Yurnero."_

_Where was Sven's name? _He wasn't addressed once in all these letters. Shen noticed a growing look of panic of Lanaya's face and began, "Lanaya, I think we should take a break."

"Where's Rylai's letter?" she demanded, flipping through the rest of the notes like trash a few falling into the waters of the Fountain.

"That's intriguing," Shen mused, sifting through the remaining letters with her. "Looks like she didn't write to you."

Rylai hadn't sent a letter at all, but she would have taken the time to do it, even if she was injured, which she barely was, Sven had protected her from the attack, and why wasn't he addressed a single time in any of the letters?

She scanned through the letters, not one of them said a thing about Yurnero's condition or any happenings outside the Fountain. Someone had been going through her letters. _Editing them maybe, someone had removed Rylai's entirely and why wasn't Sven's name in any notes?_

Lanaya looked at her friends accusingly, "What happened to Sven and Rylai. Tell me."

Shen held up her glowing hands, "Calm yourself, you know how it is with all the higher ups, they like to keep things quiet. They _advised_ us to keep quiet to you about it."

Lyralei began to chew on a strand of her red hair. "Bah, it's just some bull with the shot-callers, we caught Rylai storming off somewhere, wouldn't say what for, but she was headed for the gates and we haven't seen Sven since."

Lanaya got up, throwing the note in her hand onto the grass, rubbing her brows. So Sven was unseen, Rylai had something pressing on her mind. Why?

_Sven is missing. _

But he teleported back with us.

_What did you see before you teleported away? _

The Lycan, tackling Sven as he stood in the pillar of light. Sven was missing.

* * *

><p>The ball's rolling now, the story is set in motion. Next chapter will be out soon, I promise.<p>

P.S. I have decided upon using the Phantom Assassin, Mortred, as the perspective from whom the next chapter on the Dire side will be written.


	6. A Matter of Plots

Well, here's chapter 6, hope you like it, I tried writing it from the Dire perspective and hopefully it's not too disagreeable.

* * *

><p>Mortred looked over the edge of the cliff that overlooked the River, where the Middle Lane of both Radiant and Dire met, bodies of Creeps, maroon and green alike, staining the knee deep waters in red trails that stretched far downstream. The Jungle on the Radiant side of the River was awash with green, the Dire Jungle's trees were bear with the coming Winter save for the uncommon tree with its leaves stained cherry pink and red with the last breath of Fall.<p>

She crouched low to the spiky grass, her cape splayed out on the ground behind her. Her eyes lay affixed on the Radiant Tower, a carved top-heavy pillar of ivory that levitated several metres off the ground, the carvings upon it glowing with the power of the Radiant Ore inside. A shape that huddled under its shadow seemed to shift slightly. She whispered quietly, "There he is."

Clinkz, crouched some distance away, seemed to give a fiery growl. They'd been staked out here for almost six days, their mission to claim the Radiant Tower. They'd expected no resistance at all but Necrophos had not informed them about the Hero that stood guard there, Kardel, the Sniper. He was one hero but whenever they tried to cross the River the bullets would start flying, Mortred's helmet bore a new scar where a shot had glanced off and Clinkz was missing a whole rib on his right side, shot clean off.

"He's just waiting there," Clinkz sneered. "We could take him, there's two of us!"

"Not while he's under that Tower," Mortred said pointedly. "Two shots, two dead heroes."

The Bone Fletcher glowered, over the sound of crackling fire she thought she heard the muttered words: "_Coward…_"

She sighed internally, keeping her tired eyes fixed on Sniper's position. She tucked her cloak a bit tighter around her armour for the little warmth it gave, her breath steaming as it rolled out from between the metal plates of her helmet. Her right side was warm though with the heat that radiated from Clinkz.

The sound of metal plate armour bouncing against metal plate armour, metal horseshoes thudding against grass. Mortred glanced back and saw two glows of a different colour advancing to her cliff perch, one the sickly, fluorescent green air that followed Necrophos wherever he went, the other a light blue and black mist that curled up in the wake and ahead of an imposing figure on horseback, an armoured figure who carried himself proudly upon a horse that seemed to be made of the very same mist that followed him, glowing blue and black. Mortred nodded at the mounted figure, "Abaddon."

"Mortred," he replied in his ghostly tone. "A fine Winter morning."

"Huh, yeah, 'fine'," she smirked. Of all the members of the Circle, Ostarion's personal councillors, the tall, dark, and if the rumours are to be trusted, handsome Abaddon acted the least detestably, he'd earned his position through acts of tactical genius in the field while the others had done so mostly through cloak and dagger. Especially Necrophos, he had done a lot of dagger-ing.

Rotund'jere looked more disagreeable than usual, a feat as he'd already been extremely morose with his stunning defeat at the hands of his prisoner, Lanaya, and a girl, Rylai. The Creeps had to chisel him out of the ice, a humiliating defeat for a member of the Circle. He hissed, "Enough bird-watching! We've more pressing matters at hand."

Mortred scowled as he jabbed her armoured side with the end of his scythe. She shifted around to face them but didn't get up, setting her jaw defiantly at Rotund'jere. Abaddon smirked quietly, before he slid off his horse. "As my colleague said, we have a situation to attend to."

Clinkz turned as well but he kept his distance, eyeing Mortred worryingly, fingering his bowstring obsessively. She kept a hand on one of the daggers at her belt.

Abaddon knelt down, his horse pawing the ground nervously, Rotund'jere sneered disapprovingly and remained standing. The Lord of Avernus said, "I have a mission in mind, a dangerous and harrowing task, a chance to gain prestige and respect in the hierarchy."

Neither Clinkz or Mortred seemed to take much interest, she herself didn't care much for 'respect', she was used to not having much given to her, what with the rumours about her and some of the Radiant heroes. Clinkz, well Clinkz was a mystery to her, all he seemed to care about were his own personal agendas.

Abaddon took note of their silence, continuing, "It is a solitary mission, and the one of you who is chosen, or volunteers-"

She sniggered.

"-will be placed as a sleeper agent in the Radiant ranks."

Mortred perked up, raising an eyebrow. Now it was interesting.

Clinkz gave a mocking laugh, haughtily saying, "Looks like you have your volunteer, Abaddon."

Mortred hissed angrily, "Quiet, Bones!"

The Fletcher gestured to her, facing Rotund'jere and Abaddon. "You cannot fault the Flesh-Bag, she has desires of her own, she is slave to the vices of mortality."

She spun around to face him, pulling a dagger from her belt. "You dare-"

"Quiet!" Rotund'jere snarled. "I have half a mind to have both of you thrown in a pit together for your incompetence. The Book is lost, Banehollow, the only one here besides me who can actually get things done, is many miles away because of you foolish infidels!"

Abaddon rose, saying quietly and calmly, "Rotund'jere, enough."

"I am rightly your superior! You have the nerve to challenge me?" the Necrophos stuttered in rage, his green skin discoloured with rage.

The Avernal Lord stepped forward so the tip of his metal helmet pressed against the Necrophos' bidet. His glowing eyes seemed to flash and he glowered, "Yes. I do."

The two of them, both members of the Circle, stared each other down for a moment, Mortred felt as if the cold winds seemed to stop whistling for a while, the bubbling of the river seemed to quieten slightly, even the fiery heart of Clinkz seemed to stop crackling for an instant. Rotund'jere looked up at the taller Abaddon, his pale, gaunt face pulled into an almost pained scowl, the grass around his feet curling and withering, Abaddon's hollow, metallic breathing audible as more black and blue mist sprung from the air around him.

Then Rotund'jere pulled away, face slightly paler, hair more dishevelled, back more bent, walking away down the path they'd walked together here, muttering, "Do what you must, I will be waiting when you fail."

Abaddon stood where he was, in contrast taller and more regal than before, only his head turning to watch the Necrophos as he shuffled away. He turned back, "Deepest apologies, I find him… intolerable."

_Well you're not the only one,_ Mortred thought to herself.

"But the matter of this Quest, this mission still stands. Both of you are gifted in stealth, and from what I hear," he glanced more at her with his next words, "well-versed liars as well. I need but one, to serve as my spy, my eyes in the dark."

She rose immediately, in response to the stares she received she said defensively, "Come now, look at the two of us. Who would be the better sleeper agent? The bag of bones? I am the obvious choice."

"So you are," Abaddon mused, watching her thoughtfully as if contemplating something.

"Well?" She composed herself, drawing and flourishing her glaive, throwing her cape out behind her in the Winter wind in an effort to look confident. "What will I have to do?"

"First? You'll have to get captured. Well, it could go one of two ways."

Mortred frowned. "Go on?"

"They could kill you on sight, or they could take you in."

* * *

><p>In a few short moments, Mortred learnt that it was exceptionally easy to look the part of an abductee.<p>

Abaddon had ordered Clinkz to keep watch while he helped the Phantom Assassin to 'look the part'. He crossed over behind her, picking up her cape with one hand and inspecting it. She smiled contentedly, "It's double layered satin, the dull side out so it doesn't catch the light."

"Sounds expensive."

"Oh it is-"

The Lord reached into the mist next to him and it condensed into a sword the same colour as the smoke, and promptly sheared the cape raggedly in half. As he proceeded, stabbing holes in the cape, she huffed quietly in exasperation, "Well then."

She could hardly contain her excitement from bubbling over her façade, finally, after so long, she could leave the Legion. A solo mission, no bumbling skeletons to hunt her down, no wolf-men to stop her, no plague-priests to kill her if she even thought of leaving. She could leave the Legion, she could see him again.

Abaddon pulled her back a bit, rousing her from her stupor, towards the edge of the cliff and away from Clinkz who stood watch on the opposite side. He whispered, "Remember, you've been set upon by your own allies, seeking help from the Radiant. When they bring you to their base their will likely incarcerate you as a prisoner of war, escaping should be a simple enough matter for you, when you have I want you to go to their Head Quarters, a grand long house of sorts South-West of their Fountain, and within that building you will find the Artifact, a tome of untold power, the one stolen from Rotund'jere."

Mortred felt him poke another hole in her cape and the tip of his sword scratch her armour. He gestured and she handed him her helmet, reluctantly, and he proceeded to strike a dent in the temple of the helmet with the pommel of his blade. She asked, sadly watching him deface her helmet, "If I may ask, sir, what is the importance of this _spell book_?"

"Hardly a simple spell book, a grimoire of sorts that details how to open a rift to the Seven Hells and bend the demons that bleed forth to your will." Mortred's eyes widened in shock.

_What? _A book that could control demons, what a weapon it must be, what a tool it could be…

She looked up at him as he stepped forward, fitting the now dented helmet over her head. She asked, "Why would you share such a secret with me?"

Abaddon stepped back, his sword dissipating back into mist, he set his hands on her shoulders and muttered, watchful of Clinkz who was out of earshot but watching them now, "Because I can see past the rumours and slanders, I know you are worthy of my trust. And anyway, the full power of the book cannot be utilised save on days on natural magical potency, say the solstice."

_The Winter Solstice_, she watched as he inspected her armour, _Frostivus. _

He continued almost unknowing of his own musing, "Of course, we cannot accomplish such a feat, I am loathe to share this information with another of the Circle and my own allies have not the magical prowess needed for such a summoning."

Abaddon brought her by the arm to the edge of the cliff directly facing the Radiant Tower, he pointed out there and said, "When you near the Tower I want you to put on the most pathetic act you can, you have to make them believe you are in need."

Mortred frowned, "That may be a problem. You can dent my armour all you want but acting isn't really my strong suite, to the _contraire_ of popular belief."

"Really?" he asked, almost surprised. "In that case, we must find a solution."

"I… I'm not sure really, what are you suggesting?" she ventured, puzzled.

Abaddon stared at her intensely.

"Well, logically, if you cannot act, we will have to evoke a genuine performance."

"Sensible enough, but- wait, no, what do you mean?"

Abaddon gestured at Clinkz, then back at her.

"Shoot her."

The Bone Fletcher roared like an inferno, she tried to reach her glaive but he was faster.

He shot her leg first, so she couldn't run away surely, the arrow head disappearing into her foot with a cloud of black cinders and glowing embers as it rent the armour apart and impaled her foot to the ground. She gasped in pain, falling to the earth, looking up and seeing Clinkz loading another arrow.

Mortred's hand fell to her belt and she drew a dagger with her right hand, her left clutching her calf. As she drew her arm back to throw the dagger another arrow came, catching her in her shoulder, the smoke and ash stinging her eyes as the force sent her sliding back a bit so her tattered cape dangled over the edge of the cliff.

Her eyes began to water with pain as her face screwed up in pain, she tried to prop herself up with one arm and one leg, Clinkz growled to Abaddon, "She'll live. If she's strong."

"Good."

A metal hand broke off the arrow in her foot, she bit back a scream of pain as she felt the wood splintering in her flesh and the broadhead moving under her skin, armoured gauntlets grabbed her by her cloak around her neck and raised her off the ground easily, her feet hanging a foot over the ground. Abaddon's twinkling eyes inspected her coldly and he said plainly, "Now you look the part. That wound will fester without healing, and if you try to return to the Legion I'll make sure your end is hastened along."

Her head lolled to the side as she snarled, "I'll kill you for this, I'll kill all of you!"

One gauntlet slid under her helmet and grabbed her face roughly, bringing her close and whispering, "When you're there, don't forget who sent you."

As he let go of her, as he let her body tumble down the side of the cliff, blood drawing strange crooked lines across the dirt, she could only think of one thing, of a promise she repeated a million times in her head to him as she watched his form turn away.

_I won't forget. I won't ever forget._

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><p>Clinkz watched the body tumble down the side of the cliff, raising a cloud of dust and throwing up dead leaves and snapping branches in its wake. It slid into the shallows of the River with a distant splash, the Bone-Fletcher's eyes squinted and he could make out the colour of blood sullying the waters dark.<p>

_She's not moving! _Calm pestered insistently. _The mission is compromised! She did not needed to be wounded so!_

_ A good act_, Fury hissed_, requires a good costume. She will survive until she reaches the Radiant._

_A good costume…_ Clinkz reassured the troubled conscience he didn't know he nursed. _We're just doing our job._

But after a moment the body shuddered, the waters trembled in parallel as ripples were thrown far away and the Phantom Assassin slowly walking away, first crawling on four trembling limbs, her shot foot dragging uselessly behind, then rising to her feet and limping to where the Middle Lanes met.

Clinkz slid an arrow he had kept at the ready back into his quiver, watching the shrinking figure, her tattered cape dragging in the water, a bloody trail in the River behind her. He glanced at Abaddon, crouched, intensely surveying the Assassin, and snarled, "She will betray us, say the word and I will shoot her down from here!"

Abaddon calmly raised a hand, his voice now harsh and stark like glacier ice. "I know she will betray us. That was why I sent her instead of you."

Clinkz eyed him suspiciously. "You asked for volunteers."

"Your mistake was believing I'd give you two a choice. She will betray us, and when she does, the other pieces will fall into place.

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><p>Welp, chapter 6. Hope you enjoyed it, this and the last Dire Chapter will hopefully set the stage for the following events in following chapters, thanks for reading and please leave a review if you liked it!<p> 


	7. Lost in the Dark

His breaths were hoarse, hollow, magnified by the hollows of his helmet. Sven barely had strength left to keep his Rogue Blade from scraping along the Jungle floor. Long beams of pale moonlight streamed in through gaps in the canopy, glancing off his armour, by light of the pale lunar face he could see the forest stretching on eternally in every direction, a twilight labyrinth that he could never escape.

The crickets chirped, the owl's hoot disapproving upon his back, a few strange creatures scurried out of his way as he trampled through the brambles and shrubs, panting, heaving, eyes heavy, body possessed of some unknown will to live. This was Radiant Jungle, definitely, the spell of his scroll had gone askew as the Lycan pounced upon him and had catapulted him to the remnants of one of their abandoned towers, colonised by the Dire Legion like termites. He'd found himself in the centre of one of their outposts, erected in victory over the rubble that was once the Tower.

A rustle from behind, Sven spun around, holding his blade with shaking arms, not just from exhausting from running for so long, through day, and night, and day, and night, so many times he lost count. No, they shook because he couldn't help it. They knew what he was, they knew, they knew his secret.

Sven spun around again to face another direction as he heard something scraping against bark, backing slowly in the direction he'd been forging before. His tired eyes, bloodshot and kept awake with the promise of pain and the horrible torment the Dire offices would inflict. They knew his secret now, they knew how to make him scream in pain and writhe in agony.

Another snap, this time accompanied with a canine growl and the padding of paws against dirt. Sven's breaths were now so deep and tired they pressed painfully against his breastplate with each motion. The Lycan was strong, well-rested even before when Sven was tired, their trip to the Dire outpost had done nothing to ease this imbalance. He wasn't sure if he could-

He had to stand, he had to fight, he could feel his legs shaking from the many miles he'd trekked the past few days, herded in circles by the great wolf, like a play thing to bat around and kill at a whim.

_I'm not some play thing. _

He had a nagging suspicion that he was lying to himself as he watched a stray shadow flit around him, as if circling, stalking. He dug his heels into the ground, the soft soil and rutty mud rising midway to his ankles, the weight of his sword drove him into the earth as he raised it to his side.

_I'm not prey. _

The lie didn't stop his arms from shaking, didn't straighten his ragged breaths, but they made him feel a tiny warmth in the cold inferno of his spent body. He watched the shadow, now sure that it was his pursuer, his bloodshot eyes meeting the yellow ones in the dark. It was ready to lunge, ready to pounce upon him. He needed every sliver of steel he had left, so he lied one more time.

_I'm not afraid._

The Wolf snarled.

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><p>Well, here's chapter 7, or 6.5? A mini chapter, so as to shed a bit of light on Sven's current whereabouts. Only about 500 words, but I hope I was able to capture an air of suspense in this one, leave a review telling me if I did good, if I didn't, and until next chapter, <em>ciao<em>!


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